Athletic Treason and Training
by Li-Naga
Summary: Alfred probably hasn't exercised in years. Not since the last two years of high school and never in college though he's just started. He's been slovenly. Enraptured with his favorite piece of technology: his beloved laptop. His brothers notice his diminishing health and hire a personal trainer to whip him into shape.
1. Chapter 1

"What the FREAK is THAT?!" Alfred screamed in horror as he pointed to…to…oh my god WHAT EVEN WAS THAT?! A giant THING was sitting at their dining room table right in his chair! Why his chair?!

"Alfred calm down, he's just your personal trainer."

The blonde sputtered as he turned to his soft-spoken brother. Personal trainer? He didn't ask for a personal trainer!

"Mattie I swear to god. I told you I didn't want one! I'm perfectly healthy and can start exercising whenever I want to! But why is that… That SNOWMAN in our house and why is he half naked?! For the love of..! Tell him to put some clothes on! Oh my god…" He covered his face with his hands at the sheer awkwardness of the situation. Just a moment ago he was as happy as the goat who got the tin can: the tin can being his high-performance desktop equipped with the latest quad-core processor, HD graphics card and power-conserving technology and …oooohhhh… Was he drooling?

"Al, he's fully clothed." Mathew deadpanned, smacking his brother when he nearly started dribbling spit on the carpet. "Not the carpet! Eeeww Al, geez if he's affecting you that badly I guess it's for the best." He walked over to their guest who was smiling creepily at Alfred with a twinkle of amusement in his strange violet eyes- no doubt hearing everything with how obnoxiously loud Alfred could be.

Alfred quickly swiped the noticeable drool line from the corner of his mouth to save his dignity before actually hearing what Matthew had said. "What? No! Matt it's not like that. I don't think he's hot!" I was actually thinking about my computer? No that sounds even weirder. Umm… Just lie, Jones. Make up a lie. "I was thinking about… Umm." What's something that turns regular people on?

"You're hesitating." Matthew chirped from across the room.  
>Shit. He couldn't win.<p>

"Now stop being a dork and meet your trainer." Matthew made a mock 'come hither' motion with his index finger as Alfred frowned deeply. Deeper than that one French philosopher that he couldn't remember the name of.

He grumbled something under his breath as he trudged over slouching towards the ground over dramatically. "Trainer? What am I, a pokemon?"

Matthew shook his head as he heard the word 'pokemon'. His brother was awful at being quiet. He was about to introduce them when said personal trainer abruptly got up from the table. He walked near the sulky teenage boy who wasn't watching where he was going and consequently rammed himself into 215 pounds of pure personal trainer material. He slid to the floor at the man's feet and held his head in his hands.

"Aaarrrggghh…." He groaned and rolled away before being assaulted by a chair leg. "America!" He cried out. "I demand freedom and independence. Where are my rights?!" He screamed indignantly while curled on the floor and pulling at his messy hair. "Duuuude!

This is so totally uncool! What the-"  
>He stopped his mini tantrum when he felt something lift him up from the back of his blue hoodie and was caught off guard by the sweet smiling face of a giant. He narrowed his eyes at it and pretended he could shoot out lasers to vaporize all of his enemies. One of them now being his personal trainer.<p>

"Privyet. My name is Ivan braginsky we will be doing classes together. Everyday except Sunday and Monday. I'm under a contract as well." He gently lowered Alfred with the control of a crane and settled his enormous hands on his shoulders. For such a hulking titanic guy he had a pretty childish voice and spoke with an accent that made it sound like all of his words were stuck in his throat.  
>"Oh no. Mattie, Brohah he said contract. Contract! I can't even afford a personal trainer!" Alfred whined as he thought of his starving bank account. "You can't make me!"<p>

"Arthur signed the contract and he paid Ivan already. He said it wasn't expensive compared to what he usually paid for my hockey lessons."

"Ugh… Why is that old man still doting on me? I'm not a little kid! He isn't supposed to pay for uncool things that I don't want!" He peered at Ivan and felt a little guilty about what he said when his smile thinned.

"Not that you're uncool or anything Broski but I really don't need a personal trainer." Way to smooth that over, genius.

"It is not a problem, Fredka, but contracts are rules are rules. I promise we'll have much fun!" His eyes glinted dangerously when he said "fun" and Alfred's jaw dropped. "I have to go home to my sestras soon and it was very nice to meet you and Matvey face to face. Training starts tomorrow morning, da? So get lots of rest. Do svidaniya." He waved politely to Matthew and Alfred before grabbing his coat off the hook as well as his strange fluffy Russian hat (Mattie what's that thing on his head? Wait, it's a hat! :O) and disappearing into the late afternoon.

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><p><strong>AN: **Ayyyeee, I wrote this a long time ago and never got the inspiration to continue it. So, I thought maybe if I diddly dun post it here I'll have more motivation! The original can be found on my tumblr. Please leave a review and follow/favorite if it tickles your fancy~

*xXNaga outXx*


	2. Chapter 2

"Noooo…. Nooo…Noooo." A mass of bed sheets and comforters shuddered and curled in on itself as sweet golden sunshine streamed in like projectors onto one unsuspecting college student.

"Mattie why. Mattie Help. I'm being assaulted by the sun. This is some type of sexual battery going on here." A golden silkworm by the name of Alfred F jones sluggishly wriggled out of his Captain America themed silk cocoon. His messy mop of hair waved to the world; one side dramatically flattened into a hair ramp off his face. Maybe it was the way he slept. He didn't care.

"HURGh aww yesh right there. That hits the spot." He moaned in what could be described as utter bliss as he completed his final stage of metamorphosis. His computing muscles and sinew pulling just into place with his bones as he arched his back into the 'heavenly morning stretch' position.  
>He flopped gracefully back into his mattress with his limbs spread eagle, face down in that soft cottony goodness.<br>'Never want to leave…' He thought to himself. It was the weekend, he deserved the recharge. He wouldn't get up even if the world was exploding. Which it wouldn't anytime soon so he was good to go.  
>That was, until his stomach started grumbling.<p>

"Why must you always insist on making me hungry, Stomach?" He grabbed the end of the bed and pulled himself up and over the edge. The rest of his body slithered after him and he fell in a heap on the pink carpet. He should probably change that someday. It detracted from his overwhelming manliness.  
>The smell of fluffy Canadian style pancakes wafted into his room.<br>The sweet aroma curling between the carpet and under his nose like in one of those old-timey cartoons before drifting up into the vent above his bed. His brethren…oh how it calls him.

"OH MY GOD MATTIE, PANCAKES? PANCAKES?! I LOVE YOOOUUUU~!" Alfred didn't even wait for his body to catch up. In a record 7 seconds he had flashed to the kitchen, feet making impressive skid marks on the tile floor.  
>Oh yes, Matt wore his special maple leaf apron, flipping pancakes like burgers; one day he'd make a woman very happy.<br>Or man. He didn't judge.

"Hey Al, could you get the real maple syrup?" He flipped another pancake and then gestured to the cabinet behind him with his spatula.  
>"Really? What's the special occasion? You nearly beat me to death with your hockey gear last time. Not cool at all, by the way." He scratched his head before grabbing the "MapleOak" brand from the top shelf and placing it on the granite countertop. And then promptly shrieked like a banshee.<br>"That's an interesting way to say hi, Fredka. Here let me try…." The room was bathed in silence for a good minute with the occasional flop of a perfectly cooked pancake.

"Ah!"  
>"AHH! Why would you do that?!<br>"Al, sit down and eat some pancakes. The man even told you that your "training"-he stopped to make air quotes- would start this morning." He snickered as Alfred began to get flustered.

"No." His voice became deeper and patriotic. His left hand instinctually found the right side of his chest-right where his heart was. In an incredibly feat of flexibility he hooked his left leg on the nearest elevated object-which was the granite countertop. Awk."THIS is AMERICA! And I am AMERICAN! AND IN AMERICA WE DO WHAT WE WANT!" He finished with a sharp salute to Ivan and said Snowman clapped giddily at Alfred's ostentatious display. Alfred beamed. The very Heart of America beamed. His leg hair shone in the ambience as it still rested on the countertop. So majestic. A single tear rolled down his subtly tanned cheeks. An ode to his very good childhood.

"You're a tool." Matthew dully stated as he put the heaping pile of golden-brown, warm, fluffy pancakes on the table.  
>"The pancakes look wonderful Matvey." Ivan ogled the pancakes with something akin to awe. They were stacked so high they brushed the ceiling every time it swayed.<p>

"Oh, Al he's a charmer. You'll get along just fine." Matthew teased as he went to retrieve the syrup.  
>"Shut up Matt, I am 100% done with your French tendencies. And why is that dude in my chair again? Why is it always my chair?" Alfred sighed as he settled across from Ivan. He glared crossly at his delicious pancakes and crossed his arms over his chest. He was the face of childish tantrum.<br>And then there was Maple syrup being poured onto his pancakes like waterfalls, and he grinned smugly as his pancakes were being cut into triangular bites. Matt always gave into his pouts. He was about to turn to give his brother an earful before said brother spoke up from the kitchen.  
>"Awwn… Poor baby can't even cut his own pancakes. How embarrassing."<p>

Alfred turned red as he realized that his personal trainer was basically feeding him.  
>"Eat. We have to go out soon. Matthew is right. I will feed you if I have to. I can't have you collapsing on me, and…" The man leaned in so close the pink scarf brushed his shoulder. "I wouldn't get to torture you as much."<p>

Pure evil radiated from his misleadingly childish and joyful expression. He could practically hear the depraved whisperings of the exercise demons.  
>"Aw hells no!" Alfred shot out of his seat. "I want out of this contract right now! There has to be a loophole!" Then again, his old man was a lawyer… Dang it. He still couldn't win. Why was he always losing? Heroes don't lose!<p>

"MY ENTIRE LIFE IS FREAKING RIGGED! IKNEWIT." He stopped to stuff a generous amount of pancake into his maw before continuing his rant. "God, mmm Matt these mmf- pancakes mmf!"

Ivan seemed un-phased by his gross manners as he sat back down and quickly finished his own pancakes. His new student really was such a beautifully flawed creature. Maybe it's the way his hair defies gravity at all times. From his rather super saiyan morning style to his afternoon cowlick…thing. Maybe it was the way pieces of pancake guts flew all the way across the table to softly touch his own face- Eu. What a freak. He decided that he liked his interesting new client. He looked down at his watch and panicked as he realized they were already 20 minutes late!  
>"Sorry Alfred but we have to go NOW! You can finish your pancakes on the way there!"<p>

He looped strong Russian arms underneath Alfred's slightly jiggly ones from behind and began dragging him out the door. Alfred struggled with half a pancake in his mouth flailing with utterances of what sounded like "AH! COMMIES. MATTIE HELP YOUR BIG BRO! NOOOO I DON'T WANNA! LET ME GO YOU GIANT WHITE GORILLA!" But who could be so sure with that humongous pancake obstruction?  
>"Thank you for the pancakes Matthew! I'll bring him back in a few!" Alfred, in a last resort attempt hooked his fingers on the door edges and grunted for the struggle.<p>

He looked to Matthew pitifully. Doe-like eyes wholesome and pleading in a silent prayer.  
>Matthew smiled good-nature fly and waved.<p>

"Have fun you two."

Alfred's grip couldn't possibly go against 215 pounds of pure athletic weight and he broke away soon. The door clicked shut ominously, sealing the Blue-eyed American teen's fate.

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><p><em>AN: Oh, how it's been so long. I'm so sorry I've been gone. I was busy doing all the school. Did you like it? Please Review/FAV/Fo. Leave your messages in the comment section. Until next time on ATAT. _


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